


Killer Robot Acquired

by somethingsintheair



Series: TWRP Origins [1]
Category: Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)
Genre: Gen, Origin Story, Robots, Some bad language, but i like it, doctor sung should not practice medicine, high kicks, kinda dumb, mild violence, pls don't take this seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 07:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6229855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingsintheair/pseuds/somethingsintheair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I haven't seen any fics about TWRP yet, so, uh. Let's do it.</p><p>The brief story of how an immortal scientist found the perfect drummer- a murderous cyborg. Based off of a story I recently read in an interview with the band, as well as little snippets of their backstory I've come across.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Killer Robot Acquired

Caves were safe, that's what Doctor Sung liked about them. The other life forms weren't too much of a threat, really (except for some of the larger ones- the dinosaurs, for example), but it was still good to have a solid place for refuge. Most of the larger predators wouldn’t fit in cave entrances, and the Doc had a nice set of lights to look around with, so he was comfortable. One particular cave seemed different from the rest, however- Doc could feel an odd energy radiating from deep within the cave. A strong, steady beat that rocked into his very core. A beat that he knew would help him execute his new plan. _The perfect drummer._

Curiously, he delved further into the depths of the cave. As he moved, the energy field became stronger, pulsing in perfect sync with his heartbeat. He switched on the light on his chest for better visibility and started looking. As he scanned the area, he spotted a shiny, silver object in a gap between two rocks, and stepped forward to inspect it further. With brute strength alone (as well as some masterfully executed high kicks), he managed to clear away the boulders.

What was left was quite the sight to behold- a full robotic body, lying completely still on the floor of the cave. Doc breathed in a delighted gasp and turned on his headlight so that he could inspect the machine. It appeared to be expertly crafted, if not for the damage presumably done by the boulders. A few dents here and there, some scratches along the bot’s hard metal surface. Otherwise, a beautiful piece of work. No parts appeared to be detached or missing- the overall integrity of the machine was impressive, to say the least. The only problem was that the bot appeared to be dead. Regardless, Doctor Sung knew that energy field meant something, and as intelligent and handsome as he was, he knew he would be able to fix the machine. With the strength of the Tyrannosaurus Rex itself, the Doctor lifted the robot and slung it over his shoulder.

Doctor Sung’s current time period of residence (what most refer to as the Mesozoic Era) didn’t stop him from executing his work. In all his spare time, he’d crafted a workshop for himself- a lab, if you will. And on his first few time traveling conquests, he’d managed to pick up some useful equipment from the Cenozoic Era, which was roughly 251 million Earth years after his current time. With all of his rushed advances in technology, he’d made a pretty nice place for himself. Organized tool cabinets lined the walls, filled to the brim with whatever the Doc had found on his travels. A large worktable sat in the center of the room, which Sung haphazardly dumped the robot down onto the surface of.

The Doctor took another moment to inspect the robot carefully, and made a mental note of his fleshy, organic-looking hands. They looked quite similar to his own, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the robot was actually an immortal being such as himself. Or, perhaps a simple human who’d been very caught up in some very complicated problems? He wasn’t even sure if humans could survive time travel- or if they would ever even discover it before their eventual demise. So how could one of them have made it so far back in time? But if this was simply a robot with flesh-covered hands, who had created him? Where were they now? Could the bot have been born from mechanical parents? Or, had he simply materialized out of nowhere? The possibilities were endless, and Doctor Sung had to get the thing up and working so that he could get some goddamn answers.

With the assumption that he was dealing with an organic being- or at least, something inspired by such- the Doc went for the chest area. Logically speaking, that’s where all the vital stuff would be, and considering the robot had a hard metal plate on his chest, he could only assume there was something important behind it. And if that was true, the large dent in the plate had very likely contributed to the overall deadness of the robot. To test his hypothesis, he grabbed a crowbar from one of the drawers, and pried the chest plate off in what really could not be considered a very gentle manner. But, hey, organic or not, the robot was presumably dead, and from his experience, Sung found that dead things didn’t tend to feel much pain.

Doc tossed the damaged chestplate aside, and barely even noticed the disruptive noise of metal crashing to the floor. He turned his headlight back on, and his eyes went wide at the sight before him- it was a fucking mess. There had been... _somethin_ g there, for sure, but whatever it was had been splattered unceremoniously against the walls of the chest cavity. Dried red marks covered the otherwise silver lining, and several frayed wires stuck out of small holes in the sides of it. Overall, as previously mentioned, it was a goddamn mess. But once again, this was the one and only Doctor Sung, so he could always find a way to fix something like this.

His first guess as to what the red something had been was obviously a heart, so he started to look for something that could mimic a heartbeat. He tried a variety of things, from a small analog clock to a repeated punch to the thoracic cavity. None of those methods seemed to work, however, and he was about to give up- until he found the perfect solution.

He wanted a drummer, so why not make a drummer?

He searched through his box of various instruments he’d acquired until he found exactly what he’d been looking for: an 808 drum machine. It was a bit of a tight fit, but eventually, he managed to place the machine comfortably in the robot’s chest. With a lot of tinkering, he was able to wire the machine to what he could only assume was some sort of mechanical cardiovascular system. And with the press of a button, a steady beat began on the drum machine.

Doctor Sung nearly jumped out of his skin when the robot buzzed to life.

Red glowing eyes shone directly at him, and Sung managed to spring back into action just as the robot bolted up into a sitting position. “Wh-whoa, hey, careful there,” the Doctor said as he pushed the robot down in a slightly more gentle manner. The thing could have pain receptors, how the hell would he know? Honestly, he had just been dicking around that entire time, and he definitely hadn’t expected to have a live (and somewhat terrifying) robot on his hands. “Gimme a second, your chestplate isn’t on.”

Doctor Sung received what he could only describe as a death glare from the live robot in question, but the thing stayed still regardless. “Relax. I’m a doctor, I totally know what I’m doing,” he assured, choosing carefully not to mention that at least 90% of his credentials involved high kicks and the keytar. He picked up the discarded chestplate from the floor, and applied pressure on the inside until the dented part popped back into place. Perfect. He made a move to set the plate back into its original place on the robot’s chest, but soon realized that he’d yanked some important-looking bolts out along with it. The bolts in question had been bent beyond repair by his crowbar activity, so he’d clearly have to find another solution.

“Hey, what kind of bolts do you take?” the Doc asked, twirling a damaged bolt between his fingers. “What are these... twenty-four millimeters?” He glanced down at the robot for an answer, but only received a blank stare in response. “Alright... not one for conversation? That’s fine. I can work with that.”

With another quick search through his workshop- and a whole lot of trial and error that the robot did not seem to enjoy- the Doctor managed to find the right bolt size. With careful precision, he bolted the chestplate back into place, and soon after that, he managed to answer one of his burning questions: the robot did indeed have some sort of pain receptors. That fact became very apparent when the bot jumped up, grabbing Doctor Sung by his throat with pure murderous intent in those bright red eyes. The Doctor made a variety of unattractive noises before his air supply was cut off completely, and he found himself frantically grabbing at the robot's hand in a pathetic attempt to free himself. By some stroke of luck, the machine decided to free Doc from his death grip, and tossed the pylon-headed nuisance aside. He had better, more important things to be doing, and he grabbed a nearby screwdriver to do just those things.

Doctor Sung, gradually recovering from his previous lack of air, sat up slowly to see what was going on. “Hey, what the hell?” he wheezed. The robot stood in front of a mirror, his back to Sung, and the Doctor could only hear some metallic clanking sounds as the bot’s arms moved around near his neck. There was a bit of static, and a light tapping sound before the robot turned to face Sung.

“I felt that, you fucking moron.”

Sung was clearly startled by the computer-generated, heavily-accented voice. So startled that he forgot to answer for an inappropriate amount of time.

“You can... talk?” he finally asked after the uncomfortable silence.

“Yes.” With that simple reply, there was another lull in the conversation (if one could even call it that), and a staredown between doctor and robot ensued. It was hard to read the expression of someone with a metal face, but Doc wasn’t exactly getting friendly vibes. Eventually, the robot seemed to have had enough of the other, and made a move to leave the workshop.

“Wait!” Doctor Sung called after him, stopping the bot in his tracks. “Come on, I just brought you back to life, didn’t I? Can you at least answer some questions?” The robot turned around, and Doc would never admit it, but those eyes still sent chills down his spine. And not the good kind. “I’m Doctor Sung. Do you... have a name?”

“No.”

Doc nodded thoughtfully as he pushed himself back up. The robot was taller than him (not counting the doctor’s choice of headgear), but it was nice to be at least a bit closer to his eye level than before. “Well I’m gonna call you... Havve Hogan. Because it sounds cool.”

He only received a silent stare in reply, so he took that as an ‘I agree, Doctor Sung, it’s very cool’.

“Uh, anyway,” Doc continued, “The reason I brought you back is because I want you in my band. You’ve got a drum for a heart now, you think you’d be any good at drumming?”

This time, he read the robot’s look as ‘Is that even a goddamn question?’ and he was perfectly satisfied with that. _The perfect drummer._

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the interview I mentioned previously, if you're interested:  
> http://www.scope-mag.com/2015/08/tupper-ware-remix-partys-epic-quest-to-annihilate-boredom/
> 
> Constructive criticism is more than welcome, I'm trying to improve my writing and that's a very slow process.


End file.
